


Downtown Love

by oneforyourfire



Series: Suho Birthday Sextravaganza [10]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 07:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10962180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/oneforyourfire
Summary: He is the most beautiful, most expensive thing that Joonmyun has ever allowed himself to touch and then touch again and again and again (aka rich man, model au)





	Downtown Love

**Author's Note:**

> [let me know all of you](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=-ljdAMy61aM)

Kim Jongin, he’s got model money, model tastes, model looks, model makeup, too, that Joonmyun drags his thumbs across until he's a smeared mess of glitter eyeshadow, black eyeliner, streaked BB cream, nude lipstick. And he’s model stunning, still, maybe even more model stunning like this, hints of that bare, beautiful, soft, soft boy beneath it all peeking through the mess of makeup on his skin, as he gasps, surges into Joonmyun’s messy touch. 

Joonmyun had met him at the hotel bar, jittery, lingering on the last stool, tapping a restless tattoo against the varnished wooden bar, the edge of his glass, smiling at him shy and soft, accepting the drink that Joonmyun had offered him, then the seat beside him. Model pretty, a pretty, warm body Joonmyun could spread open on his business card hotel room, fuck flushed and sobbing and broken, a prettty, prettty butterfly he could pin, could keep if only for one night. 

And he had, had pinned, had fucked, hard, rough, deep, fast as Jongin had _begged_ him to, his back scratched raw, body aching with exhaustion in the aftermath. 

And then had had, had pinned, had fucked again, the morning after, Joonmyun bending Jongin over the tub, watching the way his pretty lips, pretty moans made the porcelain bead with condensation. 

One night, Joonmyun had assumed, maybe one more after Jongin had typed his number in his phone as he'd towel-dried his hair with the terry cloth bath towel on the bed they'd spent the night defiling. But it’s been 5 months. And this is a frequent, frequent occurrence when they're both in this part of town, both in need of warmth, of touch, of each other. Jongin invites himself into Joonmyun's hotel room and Joonmyun fucks him until he cries, builds him back up with soft kisses, warm words, takes him again and again and againd until their both utterly limp and spent with pleasure. 

He’d been dolled up then, too, that first night, beautiful, poised after his first big show, looking even then like he was to _born_ only for this, born for model looks, model money, model tastes.

And he looks it even now, stripped bare, rendered trembling on this nondescript hotel bed, his cheekbones, browbones, eyelids, bitten lips a mess of smeared colors, bleeding in streaks, harsh against the golden glow of his skin, the stark white of the sheets.

Joonmyun tilts forward, their lips colliding in a messy kiss, and Jongin tastes—as he had that first night, every night since then—like the faint wax residue of nude lipstick, champagne, smells like expensive cologne. Model luxuries, model perks, paid for with model money, model looks. 

Jongin tangles a hand in his hair to urge him even harder, and Joonmyun sucks on his bottom lip, bites, relishes in the breathy moan that Jongin releases into his mouth in response. 

Joonmyun pulls away to drag purposefully, wet, hot, lingering kisses over his jawline, chest, stomach, thighs, settles over him to mouth at that sweet, shuddery place between his neck and shoulder that has goosebumps blooming across his trembling skin. 

He is the most beautiful, most expensive thing that Joonmyun has ever allowed himself to touch and then touch again and again and again. Never, ever quite getting his fill in their frequent, thorough, thorough indulgences. 

Jongin, he’s got model hips, model poise, a practiced, dizzyingly effective model smolder, parted lips and tilted eyelashes and furrowed brows, stained with want, want, want. It cracks only just the slightest when Joonmyun scrapes his teeth along the pucker of his nipple, soothes his bite with a luxurious lick that has Jongin's chest hitching sharply beneath his mouth. 

He’s prettiest, most real like this, spread open and nude and wanton and wanting across his sheets, lying prone, prone, prone, Joonmyun’s for the taking. 

Joonmyun straddles his waist, cups his neck, drags his thumb up his throat, watches as Jongin swallows slow and heavy and stunning. 

He’s a sight too perfect to bear, too perfect to touch—touch for long, but Joonmyun does anyway, skimming his other hand over the smooth planes of his waist, his chest, feeling the fine, fine tremor of desire. Joonmyun tugs at Jongin’s plush bottom lip, and Jonging’s lips tremble with a moan, the sound decadent and low and beautiful, devestaed, devestating. 

The glow from the glittering Seoul skyline, pale moonlight flickers over the contours of his golden skin, makes him ethereal, extra, extra gorgeous, striking and unsettling perfect, the muscles dancing beneath his skin as he trembles with the exertion of staying still. 

Joonmyun presses harder, Jongin’s lips warm, wet, heartachingly, tantalizingly soft as he suckles Joonmyun’s thumb into his mouth. 

“Watch,” he instructs, sliding only briefly away to the nightstand—condoms, lube. 

Jongin’s got model skills, too, model focus, knows how to follow directions, look pretty and expectant and expensive even with his eyes so dark and so full of need, his full lips quivering with small, broken little moans of anticipation and desperation. 

Joonmyun’s moans are anticipatory, too, desperate, too, muffled into his shoulder as he shivers through his own caresses, fingers messy, angle sloppy. Jongin’s hand settle on his hip, squeezing hard, hard, hard, as he watches, and Joonmyun shudders, pushes in deeper as he curls another finger inside of himself, moans. 

Fingers sticky, tacky with lube, Joonmyun anchors himself on the smooth cut of Jongin’s hipbones, bracing himself as he cirlces his ass back, teasing, teasing, teasing, watching Jongin’s eyes haze, haze, haze, his lips quiver, quiver, quiver, his entire body a tremor or taut, taut need. 

His throat bobs, chest heaves, eyelashes flutter, lips part with a rich, rich moan when Joonmyun sinks fully on his cock, and Joonmyun moans at the glorious burn of a stretch, how full, full, full he feels, how full full full of need Jongin’s glassy eyes look as they blink up at him through his dark, heavy eyelashes. There is sweat bead along his throat, his temple, and he’s stunning. 

Joonmyun shifts, stutters out a moan, and he can feel every pulse of Jongin’s erratic, racing, racing heartbeat throbbing rhythmically inside him, can feel it thrumming against the palms of his hands, too as he anchors himself, circles, grinds, grinds, grinds. The friction has his chin crashing against his sternum, chest tight, body quivering with need. He moans again, louder, deeper as Jongin’s fingers stumble towards his waist, then his cock. 

They curl, stroke, and Joonmyun drags his fingernails over Jongin’s chest, scrambling for purchase before rising, dropping again. Jongin’s moan is utterly _ruined_ , his eye fluttering shut, the hand around his hip clenching bruising tight, tight, tight. 

“Watch,” Joonmyun reprimands in a pant, tilting forward, fucking himself faster, harder, hips punching into Jongin’s stroke, back onto the delicious thickness of his heavy, hot, hard, hard cock. 

Again, again, again. 

His moans become increasingly breathier, bounces shakier as climax creeps closer, closer, closer, the pleasure mounts higher, higher, higher. 

And Jongin, beautiful and breathless and breathtaking and tense, tense, tense, tipping his head back with loud, gasping moans. He touches. He watches. Joonmyun watches him back. Model stunning, especially when he’s utterly debauched and ruined with pleasure, collapsing back as orgasm tears through him, tears through them both.

**Author's Note:**

> 10/11
> 
> "rich"


End file.
